


The Call

by SophiSinclair



Series: The Calm, The Storm, and The Aftermath [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Calm Verse, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiSinclair/pseuds/SophiSinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set four months after the ending of season 3A, Derek wakes up from a nightmare with the intense NEED to return to Beacon Hills. On the drive there he feels almost COMPELLED to call Stiles. When he does, he can't get home fast enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in The Calm before the Storm verse. Like I mentioned before this verse is a huge story that is currently in the works. Eventually I will consolidate the works into one big story but I'm not sure when.

It had been four months since he and Cora left Beacon Hills behind. They were now in San Diego, with its bright sun and sandy beaches. Cora seemed to fit right in with the Hernandez Pack, the Alpha had known their father Liam for many years. She thrived here in the warmth and had admitted to Derek just last night that she didn't think she wanted to leave. He went to bed with the weight of her words ringing in his ears. Maybe that's why he dreamt of blood and death and Home. 

He shot up and looked around, his senses telling him that he was save but his mind still replaying the feel of Boyd's blood slipping down his fingers. That death weighed heavily on his conscious. 'This is madness, it was just a dream.' He tilted his head to relieve the tension in his neck before sliding gracefully from the bed. "I'll just get a drink and head back to bed." He padded quietly down the hall, keeping his steps light to keep from waking anyone in the pack house. When he reached the kitchen he found Martez, the Alpha of the pack, seated with two cups of coffee in front of him.

"Derek, sit, I know you have a lot on your mind right now." His eyes flashed red for a brief second before Derek felt the need to get out. "I'm sorry, I've got to go." Derek ran from the room, his emotions running high, he could feel his claws leaving gouges in the doorframe as he pushed into this temporary room.  
He grabbed his bag from the closet, shoving his meager supply of clothes into it before grabbing his boots and hastily shoving his feet into them. He pulled his jacket from his chair before running down the steps and stopping short at his Camero. He'd put it in storage when he was dealing with his pack, but now the familiar feel of the leather interior settled his nerves a bit.

Derek threw his bag into the back and shifted into reverse without a second thought, his mind already far away in Beacon Hills. About ten miles into the drive Derek couldn't take the silence anymore and turned on the radio, the rhythmic tones of an acoustic guitar filling the cabin and causing his grip on the steering wheel to loosen a bit. "This is insane, why now of all times." He shook his head and tried to remember the dream that woke him in the first place. Blood, death, darkness and Stiles. It always came back to Stiles.  
From the first time he scented the new beta, there had been an interesting smell around Scott. Honey and boy sweat and sandlewood. It hadn't been the new beta and when Derek finally saw the owner of the smell, he'd had to take a breather. He remember watching the boys look around for the missing inhaler and when his eyes caught the Honey/Gold of Stiles, he was doomed. He knew it then and he knew it now. Every time they clashed the feeling only escalated. He took his anger out on Stiles, he knocked him into walls and even bashed his head into the steering wheel of his own Jeep, but it seemed to calm the madness that sent his blood pumping in a frenzy whenever Stiles looked his way.

Shaking from the reverie of the old times, the time Before Jennifer, he suddenly felt wrong. Pulling over to the shoulder he took stock of his senses and couldn't tell where the intense feeling of wrongness and worry was coming from. He shook it off and pulled back onto the road. It was 3am, with no traffic he should make it back in Beacon Hills by midmorning at the latest, at least if he continued driving at 80mph. Suddenly he heard Stiles's voice in the cabin. "Derek!" He swerved off the road and barely managed to keep from crashing his car into a ditch. Looking around he couldn't hear any heartbeats. There was no one around for miles.

He pulled out his cell phone and pulled up Stiles's number, he'd never given his new number to anyone but Peter, taking a minute before hitting send. The time between that first ring and when he heard the weak voice on the other end of the line seemed to stretch for hours but it hadn't even taken three seconds. "Derek?"

"Stiles, what's wrong?!" He knew couldn't hide the worry in his tone and he didn't even bother to try. "Derek, Please." Derek could hear the desperation in Stiles's tone. "I'll be there soon." He hung up and heard the engine roar to life as he pressed the gas to the floor. He heard his phone ding and pulled up his texts to find a message from Stiles. '-The Hospital-' Those two words sent a shiver of unease straight down his spine. Checking the odometer, he guessed that he'd make the three hour drive in just under an hour. 'Not Fast enough.' Shaking his head he gripped the wheel tighter and began muttering every prayer his mother had taught him under his breath.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek arrives at the hospital and deals with the fallout of his leaving Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just after the call, Derek's running on high emotions as his wolf positively howls at the chance to get back to what it sees as it's mate. I'm not happy with this chapter, but that's where it wanted to end. I'll probably add more to it as soon as I get off work.
> 
> Most of my writing is done between 5pm and 6:30 pm while i'm closing at work. My home pc is malfunctioning.

Derek rushed through the swinging doors and past the nurses station, barely seeing Melissa as the steady beat of Stiles's heart pulled him to his destination. He could smell the fear wafting off of Scott and the others but he pushed though anyway. Stopping just outside the door he took a deep breath, separating the scents as best he could; boy sweat, fear, confusion and anger. Derek rolled his neck from side to side to release the tension already thick in his body and opened the door. He felt all eyes turn to him as he strode right to Stiles's side, letting his fingers skim over the blanket that hid the weakness he could smell.

"Derek." He looked up from his perusal of Stiles's form and right into the warm honey brown eyes he had missed so much these past months. He heard the rush of the Pack's indrawn breaths as Stiles tried to sit up. Derek pushed him gently back down on the bed and sat in the open chair beside it.

"Stiles, what happened?" His voice was surprisingly even, hiding the turbulent emotions that roiled underneath his skin. Derek turned to glance at Scott and was greeted with Alpha-red eyes.

"He's been having nightmares, but it seems like it's gotten to the point where he can't tell what's real anymore." The frustration in Scott's voice was almost palpable.

"It's not that bad." Stiles protested weakly, but Isaac shook his head. "Stiles you hit your head on the dining room table this time." Isaac glanced at Derek before wrapping his arms around himself. "We couldn't wake you up, your dad was frantic."

Derek saw the color drain from Stiles's face and watched as he fiddled with a string on the blanket. Derek stood up and walked over to Isaac, his palm cupping the back of Isaac's neck in a gesture of comfort. He didn't expect the warning growl from Scott but he should have, raising his head he met Scott's red-eyed gaze, letting his eyes flare red.

"You're an Alpha again?" Derek turned to find Lydia and Danny staring from the doorway. He let the red fade from his eyes, unsure about the depth of Danny's involvement, only to be shocked as he walked over to Ethan who'd been standing in the corner nearest the windows.

Scott caught his gaze and turned to look at Aiden and Ethan. "Things have changed." Derek raised his eyebrows and turned back to Stiles, his face clearly showing his surprise.

"Yeah, the 'Murder Twins' are family now, I know what you're thinking..." Stiles chuckled lightly, shaking his head before bracing his hands against his wrapped head. "Ow."

"You are an idiot." Derek turned quickly to find Peter, arms crossed as he leaned against the door. "Why didn't you tell me what the hell was happening, Peter!" His voice dropped into the lower, Alpha, octave as his claws popped out showing his displeasure with his uncle.

Raising his hands in surrender, Peter smirks his voice practically pleased. "You never asked." Peter backed out of the room before Derek had the chance to jump, but Scott's hand came down firmly on Derek's shoulder forcing him to turn his attention to the younger Alpha.

"We needed you here, Derek, but I understood that you had responsibilities to Cora. Are you back to stay?"

He weighed Scott's question against the image of Stiles laying in the bed behind him and nodded firmly. He was unprepared for the broad smile and the feel of several pairs of arms embracing him tightly. A warm feeling started in the middle of his chest, a vibration linking him to Scott, Isaac, Aiden, Ethan, Danny, Lydia, Allison, the Sheriff, Melissa, Christ Argent, Stiles and even Peter. 'The Pack bond.' He remembered the feeling of belonging from before the fire but this seemed to be even stronger than that.

Derek nearly collapsed onto the bed but Scott caught him and helped him to a chair. "That was weird." Scott's eyes glowed red for a moment before settling back to their normal brown hue. Derek shook his head, glancing over at Stiles. "No, it was just the Pack bond welcoming me back home."


	3. There and Back Again, and Again, and Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with helping someone who can't tell what's real and what's a hallucination, Derek nearly gives up hope, that is until Deaton reveals the existence of alternate dimensions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek takes Stiles home from the hospital, during the ride Stiles keeps fiddling with his wallet until something in it causes his heart to sound like a terrified rabbit.
> 
> Once he gets Stiles settled in, he snoops into the wallet and what he finds, he can't ever get out of his mind.

It had been a rough couple of days since he'd returned to Beacon Hills. Derek refused to leave Stiles's hospital room for more than a couple of hours, and only after Scott and the twins practically forced him out. Not ten minutes after they all felt the pack bond slip into place Stiles had fallen asleep again and refused to wake up.

The doctors tried every method at their disposal and still Stiles refused to be roused from his Fifth Coma since the battle with Jennifer. Derek couldn't believe that Peter hadn't called, hell he couldn't believe that Scott hadn't called after the first coma.

Derek looked up from his mental reevaulation and locked eyes with the Sherriff. "You should rest, John. The doctors said there's been no change." He watch the fear leach into the man's gaze and shook his head as Stiles's father took the empty chair opposite his own.

"I'd never forgive myself if he, if something..." Derek could see the strain the Sherriff was feeling, hell he's feeling it himself.

"I know, John." Derek let the silence consume them, the steady beat of the monitors matching Stiles's irregular heartbeat. He tilted his head to the side, following a change in the pattern before scrambling for the Call button and smashing it under his slightly tipped nails. "Somethings happening!"

He moved closer to the bed as Stiles's fingers started flexing and his eyes flicker open with a groan. 

"This again? Dammit." Stiles's voice sounded raw and scratchy, but ten days of disuse did that.

"Son, Stiles, it's Ok." Derek watched as John brushed the hair from Stiles's forehead softly as the warm honey eyes swiveled to land on him.

"Derek, Dad, what?" He shook his head and tried to sit up, his dad pushing him back to the bed.

"It's been ten days since I got here, Stiles. You went under again. What the hell is going on?" Derek tried for nonchalance, but he could hear the waver in his voice. He watched as Stiles swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

"I'll explain everything once I'm home. I'm done being here. I hate hospitals. Dad, please. Please let me leave."   
John sighed and nodded. "I'll get you released." Derek watched the stress drain out of the Sherriff with every step he took away from his now awake son.

He turned back to face the bed and was greeted with the sight and smell of Stiles's blood as he pulled the IV from his arm. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Derek grabbed some gauze and tape from the cabinet and set about wrapping up Stiles's arm.

"Thanks." Derek looked up into Stiles's eyes and had to force down his wolf who just wanted to bite and claim. "For what? Bandaging up your arm?" He sat back down in his chair to wait and was rewarded with a warm laugh from his mate... er his.. from Stiles. His mind was a jumbled mess.

"For coming back. I know you didn't have to. I'm gonna stand up now, could you... maybe just stay there in case I fall?" Stiles's face was a little red and his heart was off but Derek attributed that to embarrassment and took all of it in before nodding.

"Yeah." Derek helped Stiles dress in silence while Stiles chattered nervously about the mating habits of wild animals until the Sherriff walked back in with a folder marked in large bold print; Stilinksi, 'Stiles'.  
"You've been sprung, Stiles, but I have the cruiser, I can call you a cab..."

"I'll take him home, don't worry John." Derek pulled his leather from the back of the chair and shrugged it on while Stiles glanced from his dad back to Derek and back.

"Should I be worried that you two are on first name basis? Yeah, I should be very worried... Great. Sourwolf and my dad are probably best friends and play chess and eat greasy food!" Stiles went off on a tangent as Derek and John shared a laugh.

Derek grabbed one bony shoulder and steered Stiles down the hallway and out into the fresh air of fall. "We don't play chess, I make sure he ate salads when he was at the hospital visiting, and I really don't think he sees me as his 'Best Friend', Stiles." Derek grabbed Stiles's hand and practically dragged him over to his camero.

"Oh sweet baby jesus. I missed this car." Stiles ran a hand lovingly over the hood before climbing into the passenger's seat. "When do I get to drive?"

Derek raised an eyebrow and lifted the side of his mouth into a smirk before turning his eyes toward the road and pulling out of the parking lot. "When hell freezes."

"Sourwolf." Out of the corner of his eye Derek caught Stiles fiddling with his wallet. He would open it, check all the pockets then close it again before repeating the ritual. He did this for several minutes straight before Derek heard the sigh.

"I don't know if I want this to be real or if I want to go back to sleep." The wistful tone in his words nearly broke Derek's heart.

"This is real, Stiles." He chanced a glance at Stiles and nearly swerved into traffic when he saw the tears gathering in Stiles's eyes. He followed his gaze to find the wallet open and those warm honey orbs locked to something within.

"Yeah. Yeah. I guess." He watched Stiles close the wallet firmly after tracing whatever had his attention lovingly with the tip of his finger.  
Derek listened to the rabbit-quick thump of Stiles's heart as he pulled into the sherriff's driveway. He filed away the sound for another day as he hoped out of the car and helped Stiles into the house. 

"Dammit, I'm not an invalid!" Stiles pulled out of his grip and almost fell over the sherriff's lounge chair. He watched as the teen righted himself and plopped on the couch, throwing his wallet onto the table behind it.

Derek raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. "Whatever." He walked upstairs and grabbed the comforter and pillows from Stiles's bed and by the time he made it back downstairs the teen was snoring away, this sleep so very different from the deep coma he just woke from. Settling the blanket over the prone form he held back a laugh and tossed the pillow into the lazy-boy.

Derek turned the thermostat up to 70 before coming to stand just in front of the table behind the couch. He reached out and popped the clasps on the wallet. It fell open on a picture. He felt his heart stop and heard his wolf howl in anguish.  
In the picture a slightly older Stiles was smiling at a slightly older Derek while holding a toddler who looked just like them. Them combined. Stiles's eyes and Derek's hair. Written on the back in Stiles's spidery handwriting was:   
Derek, Stiles and Loki Hale.  
Derek drew in a ragged breath and closed the wallet. 'I know why he doesn't want to wake up now.' He sat down heavily and waited for Stiles to wake up.


	4. The Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek waits impatiently for Stiles to wake up, only to be surprised by what happens.
> 
> Stiles begins his tale only to back out at the last second.

The clock on the wall read five thirty-four, three hours after they'd arrived back at the Stilinski household, and Stiles was still napping. Derek lounged in the recliner, his foot keeping time with the sleeping teen's heartbeat. His fingers itched to trace the skin between each visible mole and his wolf just wouldn't stop whining. Derek rolled his neck to relieve some of the tension and closed his eyes with a sigh. 

His first thought after seeing the picture had been to call Deaton. The former emissary had been a dead end for the alarmed Alpha and he had sat back down to wait. "This is insane." Derek muttered to the ether, his mouth turned up in a grimace of irrtiation. He opened his eyes several minutes later, when he felt Stiles climb into his lap. The nearly inaudible sound of his own name forced him to lock eyes with the boy.

"Derek." When he looked up, it was not into the warm honey eyes he had come to love but eyes as black as the starless night. Shocked he grabbed Stiles's hips a little rougher than he had intended. He didn't expect the moan that seemed to bubble up from the boy's throat, or the hiss of pleasure that tore out of his own throat when Stiles's semi-hard cock ground down against his lap, all but forcing him into full hardness.

Derek stood, lifting the boy away from his body even as he tried to grind against Derek and dropped him back onto the couch. "Enough. Calm Down. Dammit Stiles!" Derek's eyes flashed red as he tried to force both the boy and his own wolf into submission. Derek pinned Stiles to the couch with one hand and pushed his wolf to the back of his mind even as the teen tried to crawl back towards him. He let go of Stiles and sat back down, keeping the boy in his sight even while he kept his distance.

 

He watched Stiles shiver and come back to himself, his eyes changing back to his normal golden hue and sighed. He was conflicted, partially relieved and partially disappointed at the turn of events. 'Get a grip, he's **seventeen**  for hell's sake!' His internal voice sounded a lot like Laura and maybe a little bit like Scott, as disturbing as that was. "Derek, What.. What the hell just happened?" Stiles shivered again and pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

 

Derek shrugged. "You tell me. Your eyes were black." He leaned forward, getting as close as he dared, and crossed his arms.

 

[Stiles POV]

 

Stiles licked his lips and bit down on his bottom lip, unsure where to start. "How about at the beginning." Stiles could hear the humor in Derek's voice and just decided to go with it.

 

"I said that out loud? Damn. If you want me to start at the beginning, I have to start with the night we died. The 'comas', the hallucinations, everything started with our sacrifices." Just remembering that white room and the ice cold of the bath set him shivering again. He wanted to ask Derek to grab him another blanket but before he could open his mouth he felt the couch dip and Derek's arm wrap around his shoulders.

 

"I run hotter, keep going." Was Derek speak for I'll keep you warm. He laughed and leaned into the werewolf with an inaudible sigh.

 

"It started with seeing shadows, people that couldn't be in my room were suddenly there. Hell I dreamt once that Lydia was in my bed and that was enough to force me awake. Funny right?" He glanced at Derek and found a stoic face, his expressive eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Or not. Moving on. Then I'd be sitting in class and hear strange noises, it got to the point where Dad was considering taking me to the hospital for a CAT-scan." Stiles scooted further into the warmth offered by the normally grumpy man and tried not to sigh in pleasure.

 

"Then one night I went to bed and woke up somewhere else. Like completely somewhere else." Stiles pulled out of Derek's grasp and stood up, running his hands through his hair and pulling lightly. "I don't want to go over this more than once. Can't you call a pack meeting?"

 

He turned to face Derek and frowned at his expression. "The picture. Is that part of this story?"

 

Stiles blinked slowly before backing up a step. "You looked in my wallet? What gave you the right to look in my wallet? That's very pri..."

 

Derek held up a hand and Stiles let his argument die, waiting for the man to explain himself. "I saw you, in the car. You'd open the wallet, look through it and then repeat the whole process after not finding something. Then, when we were almost to the house you found something that made your heart sound like a goddamn rabbit. Of course I looked."

 

"You were concerned." Stiles didn't even have to look up to know Derek had nodded. "Yes. The picture... I'll explain it all. Just not now."

 

"He's... he's ours? In this alternate reality?" He heard the waver in Derek's voice and had to swallow hard to keep from tearing up.

 

"Yeah. He's ours. He's mine. Loki Liam Stilinksi-Hale." Stiles moved back to the couch and sat down heavily, leaning against Derek's hard chest.

 

"Damn." He didn't expect the arms that wrapped around his torso, but he was thankful for them. Stiles hid his face against Derek's throat and let the tears fall silently while he waited for Derek to finish texting the pack.


End file.
